Once upon a fairy tale
by Lizella
Summary: there was a young maiden kept locked up in a tower by a disappointed witch, until two boys, a dark man and a stranger on the run cross her valley


Authoress note: I owe none of the characters, they all belong to JKR, I only wrote about them and you get to figure out who they are.

Once upon a time, a young girl lived in a high tower and her only sight of the outside world was through a small window, that overlooked the forest clearing. The girl had never known anything outside of her tower and although she had hundreds of books she occupied herself with, she missed the contact to others.

The witch who had forced her into this lonely existence, although she was not evil, was as harsh and strict as her tight knot of black hair. And she could not help but notice how the girl, whom she loved as much as if she were her own daughter, had grown into a young woman, pretty in her own slender way, with bushy brown hair and curious eyes. But she was young and innocent and the witch knew how cruel and unfair the world out there was and she wanted to protect her. And so she kept the girl locked in her tower.

The girl loved books, they had been her only friends and companions, except for the witch, for as long as she could remember. Although not so long ago, she had found two real friends, or rather, they had discovered her tower in one of their boyish curiosity raids. One of them had unruly black hair and startling green eyes. His clothes were always overlarge and did not fit his skinny body. But the most unusual trait on him, was a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. There were times when he looked like he was in pain, his green eyes would glaze over and he would start rubbing the scar. The boy seemed too old for his age and the wisdom in his eyes was that of a huge burden that should not be placed upon one so young. She had never asked him about the scar and he had never offered an explanation.

The other boy was much taller, but just as skinny, with red hair and a lot of freckles. His clothes were quite shabby and sometimes there were odd laces and patterns on them. He liked laughing and telling silly jokes, that werent really funny, but still managed to cheer her and his burdoned friend up. He often talked about his huge family and the daily chaos he lived in, but never about his poverty, a subject that would have embarrassed him.

The girl was good at judging people, at least the few that passed by her tower. Every gesture, every word was special to her, unique and desired, she held those interactions close to her heart.

She wanted to be able to go outside to actually meet her boys, to run around and laugh with them. And still she feared this world, the witch had painted so cruel and cold, and retreated back into her books. The written words could lead her into different places, worlds unknown. Of course there were blonde heroes in these books, but they never captured her interest, it was the sinister and dark creatures, the haunted and lost, she felt connected too.

That was why she did not hate the witch, she could not, for she knew that the witch only wanted to protect her from the hardships she had endured. In her dreams she remembered herself as a young child and how her parents had abadoned her in the dark forest. If the witch, who had been picking herbs, had not found her, she would have died for sure, alone and lost in the woods. The witch had taken her in, given her shelter, food and her books. No, she could not hate the woman who had taught her everything she knew, protected and raised her as if she were her own child. And her young heart pitied the buttoned-up, stiff witch with the lines around her weary eyes under the strict glasses and the thin-lipped mouth.

Her two best and only friends often talked about their boarding school and the spot they had found in its walls, to escape and visit her. Of course she was flattered and could not hide her blushing. She loved her boys, as she had started referring to them, and she would have gotten lost in her world of books, if it werent for them. But at times she had the feeling that they could not understand her, although they tried.

One day a man dressed completely in black came to her clearing, he was examining the plants, sniffed at them with his abnormally large nose, even chewed on some of them. She noticed the dark and somewhat sinister aura about him. His black, shoulder-length hair hung limply into his pale face. In most of her books he would have made one of the prime villains, someone who rejoiced in death and destruction. But there was an unfitting gentleness in the way he slowly dug out the herbs, without damaging the roots.

She kept watching him, her book lay forgotten on the windowsill, when he unexpectedly turned around. His eyes were black as well, like endless tunnels and she found herself staring at him, until she hear her book colliding with the ground. Oh no, it was one of her favourites.

The dark man came to the tower with a few long strides and picked the book up, turned it around and frowned at the title "Arent you a bit too young to read such a book?" he asked in a silky voice. "No, please give it back to me." It was one of her books and those books were all she had. He had no right to take that away from her.

For a moment he kept studying the letters, then he eyed her suspiciously. "I have read it as well. Probably one of the best stories ever written. But too difficult for someone as young as you are to understand" he tried to dismiss her. "I am not like other girls my age" she sounded sad "how could I be when I have been locked up in this tower for more than 12 years?"

Suddenly he walked out of the way, so she could not see him anymore. "My book!" her mind screamed, but inwardly she knew that she wanted the dark man to return as well. When he did come back, the frown that seemed plastered onto his pale face, had deepened. "Your door is magically locked" he stated harshly. "Yes, a witch keeps me in the tower." But how could he know about magic?

He looked thoughtful. For a moment he gazed at her and there was a hint of sadness in his cold eyes. Then he turned and was on the leave when she called in a ridiculous panicky voice "my book". Without turning around, he threw it up to her window, where it sailed through and landed undamaged on her chair. When she looked out again, he was gone.

On the next morning, the witch asked her whether someone had come by the day before. Of course, the girl answered "no", still the witch kept eyeing her in a way that showed that she knew and she did not like it.

And then she sighed "My child, the world out there is full of cruel monsters. And they may not always appear that way. At times they seem to be young, good-looking boys that charm themselves into your heart, before they turn into power-hungry shadows of their former lives, that care only for their might and rule and turn your love into something sinister and wicked. Into a crime that ought to be punished. Into a tool for the sick and perverted games they like to play." Never had the witch been as honest before and the girl could feel the pain her surrogate-mother was in.

"But what about those who never care to appear like heroes or beauties, those who just dwell in their gloomy, restless and pained selves?" the girl asked silently, for she knew how rare the occasion was. "They are the only kind who really need, really know the worth of being loved. But of course they never are, they remain alone and cold and try to think it for the best, although they know better." The witch regarded the girl out of teary eyes, before she hurried out of the tower and magically sealed the door.

Her two best friends had not come to see her in four days and she was starting to worry about them. What if something had happened to one of her boys? Or what if they had forgotten about her, what if they had found two nice young girls whom they could go out with, chat and kiss and such things? And in their rush of feelings had forgotten their lonely friend in the tower?

That night a wolf howled not far away. It was an eery sound, even scarier in the dark and otherwise silent night. But as she stared at the full moon, she could not help but notice that the sound was not just the senseles outlet of a wild animal, it sounded desperate, angry and it chilled her down to the bone. She could not sleep that night, the howling seemed to come ever closer and it filled her with dread.

She must have managed to fall asleep anyhow, but when she awoke the next morning and looked out her window, a man was lying in the ditch, snoring slightly. Even if he looked quite the homeless wanderer, he seemed harmless in his patched and torn clothing. His brown hair was specked with gray and although he could not be any older than 40 he looked tired and worn like an old man. He shook in his sleep and she noticed the bloody scratches on his forearms. He looked pitiful and her all too soft heart broke for him.

It was after midday and the stranger still slept, when a shadow crossed the clearing. It was the dark man and her heart leapt higher as she noticed that he held a book in his right hand. He had come back to give her one of his own books. Noone except for the witch had ever brought her a gift and she was overwhelmed.

But then he noticed the snoring stranger that unceremoniously lay in the hedge and his frown twisted into an ugly smirk. "Who have we here? If that isnt a wild animal on the run from the law" and his velvety voice dripped with unconcealed contempt. The adressed had jumped to his feet and from the obvious look of recognition on his lined face, the two did not seem to be on the best of speaking terms.

"Please, do not do something rash" the worn stranger begged the other man and I felt really sorry for him. "Once was enough" the dark man whispered and there was a tinge of regret in his voice "But you better give me a very good reason for not turning you in or finishing you on the spot" he hissed at the torn stranger.

"I did not do it" the frantic amber eyes pleaded to the unyielding dark opponent. "And why should I believe that pathetic excuse? We both already know that you are capable of murder, dont we" it was no question but seemed to spark anger in the stranger. "I have never been accused of any crime" the shabby man hinted that this was something the other one was familiar with.

"My godson was bitten last night and I will find proof that it was you who turned him into.." he halted.

"He was here the whole night, he had no possibility to bite anyone" I intervened, before they would get onto each others throats. When the dark man glared at me, I for once was quite happy to be unreachable in my tower.

"Consider yourself lucky to have a locked-up Miss Know-it-all give you a good alibi" he hissed before turning and leaving without another glance or word, the book gripped firmly with his left, for there was a strange wooden stick in his right.

"Thank you" the patchy stranger smiled at me and he looked much younger when he did. "I only said the truth" I answered honestly " if it was your howl, then you were very close the whole night". He nodded and seemed embarassed.

"Why does he hate you so much?" I asked, my natural curiosity getting the better of me. "Oh, he holds his grudges for a long time, my friends played a prank on him, when we were at school and during that incident, I attacked him. We were not punished for tricking him and he considered that unfair, which it was, I admit."But I felt that there was much more to it.

He sighed and when the silver glistened in the sun, he seemed to have aged again.

"I guess I should be going, I never know if he might alert others of my being here and although I am innocent, I do not want to get caught" his smile was sad when he waved goodbye to me. "Thank you again, you may have saved my life. You are a very special girl" and with that he disappeared into the forest, a hunted creature on the run.


End file.
